


dammed if i do ya (hannigram)

by otterhatesyou



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Abigail is alive, Bottom Will Graham, Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannigram - Freeform, Love Confession, M/M, Top Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, cute fluff!!!, hannibal be giving long as speaches, hannigram one shot, hannigram smut, its not that smutty tho, pack it up doctor LECTURE, so are the dogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:35:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27820861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otterhatesyou/pseuds/otterhatesyou
Summary: "you are my achilles in more way than one", hannibal finally says, and will squeezes him tighter, heart fluttering. "the love i have for you borders on obsession. you were designed for me, and i was designed for you".hannibal one shots :,)
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 52





	dammed if i do ya (hannigram)

the night that will realises he's fallen for hannibal is the exact same night that he realises the enigmatic doctor isn't as as fastidious as he initially thought. 

will enters his office unannounced, a gesture of the rapport that they've established. it makes him nothing but complacent to know that he's the one person on earth who can walk through that door without invitation. 

he's always welcome. hannibal has said it himself on multiple occasions, cradling will's face each time to show his sincerity. 

"good evening, will", hannibal says now, without looking up. he's sat at his desk, sleeves of his tight shirt rolled to to the elbow, and he straightens his tie upon the man's arrival. "is that a new cologne?".  
"you and that nose", will's mouth twitches up into a smile as he walks over to lean against the desk. "it's dior aftershave from a couple of my student at the academy, as an early birthday gift".  
"ah, that's right, you're on the edge of thirty eight", hannibal finally looks up from shuffling his papers, and then has to catch his breath. 

he does a double take, trying to comprehend what he's seeing. will, his will, in pants that actually fit right and a sports coat that hugs his figure, placed strategically atop of a floral patterned shirt. it's mesh, practically translucent, and obscenely tight against his chest. this is far from the unkempt, messy haired, flannel-wearing will that usually stops by the office in the evenings for a nightcap. 

he rises out of his seat almost instantaneously, looking him up and down with an expression scarily close to hunger.  
"you're dressed up?".  
"i am", will looks down at the ground, watching the tips of their shoes pressed together. he's trying to avoid eye contact.  
"there's a possibility it was for me?", hannibal asks, though he knows the answer. he doesn't wait for will to spin some excuse, fully aware that the younger man is knee deep in denial. they've both been fighting their feelings off for long enough, and they know all of this is getting old - the theatrics, the longing glances when they think the other isn't looking, and the tension that builds up to the crescendo. 

"look at me, will", hannibal whispers, and when will fails to adhere, he crooks a finger under the man's chin and gently tips his head upwards. their eyes meet, which is meaningful enough in itself when you take into consideration will graham's aversion to eye contact.  
"it was for you", he nods. "alana has the dogs, and i know abigail is out, so i dressed up for you, and wore cologne. i thought we could go back to your place, drink some more of that champagne and sit around until midnight". 

he's gotten used to explaining himself before hannibal has the chance to psychoanalyse the answer out of him. being such a good psychiatrist while also knowing him on an incredibly personal level means will barely gets away with anything anymore, and he'd never say it out loud, but he likes the idea of having somebody who knows him like that. 

"so that i can be the first to wish you a happy birthday", hannibal effortlessly completes will's train of thought. "and, my intuition tells me, something else. something more simple".  
"more simple, but far less easy", will still feels guilt ridden every time these feelings arise - feelings of wanting to be closer to doctor lecter, physically and emotionally. he doesn't want to come off strong or make a fool of himself. "please, hannibal. you know i can see the way you look at me. don't tell me i'm delusional. how do you see me?".  
"i look at you with intrigue, and pride, and often confusion", he leans in, and will freezes, thinking that everything is coming together. hannibal proves to be a tease though, as it turns out he's only leaning in to get a closer smell of will. 

will's used to this behaviour. 

"i need this. i want it, and i know you want it too".  
"you, will graham, are behaving like a harlot", says the doctor, the faintest glimmer of a grin creeping across his face. "what are you trying to incite?".

and there it is. the crescendo. 

will reaches up and wraps an arm around the back of hannibal's neck so that he can pull him down into a frantic kiss. hannibal doesn't gasp, nor does he reject him. they both saw this coming so vividly that it was almost planned. 

hannibal's lips are full, and impossibly soft. will let's out a satisfied groan against them as hannibal's hands begin exploring every inch of his body. he feels the curve of will's hips, the bumps of his ribs, all while craving to replace his hand with his mouth. his oral fixation has had itself fixated on the young empath from the second they met, yearning to know what he tastes like, and not in his usual cannibalistic ways. will is coming completely undone at the seams as the blood rushes south from his head to another part of his anatomy, feeling completely dizzy and giddy from finally getting what he wants. 

he's had far too many dreams about this - about thundering into this office and grabbing hannibal by the face, and about confessing his feelings like real people do, and the way doctor's tongue would feel on every inch of his body. at first, when these feelings first arose, they weren't welcome: he'd often wake up drenched in sweat and would have to take cold showers and think about funerals to calm himself down, not brave enough to satisfy himself or internalise his confusing emotions. now that he and hannibal are essentially inseparable, though, it's different. it's all he thinks about. he craves it. 

"are you going to tell me what you want now, or do i have to psychoanalyse you some more?", hannibal leans back and whispers, so composed that it's almost infuriating, though he doesn't dare take his eyes away from the other man's lips.  
"i want you", will sighs, his eyes flicking upwards to look at the man with puppy-like innocence. "i want you to tell me that you need me. you've proven your love to me in a lot of ways, hannibal, but you've never gone as far as to explicitly say the words".  
"i'm afraid i've never quite enjoyed mundane human rituals".  
"your mystery is all a part of what makes me so... drawn to you", will admits, nodding, "but if i'm going to open myself up to these feelings, i need you to do the same".

hannibal looks at him, and like always, knows exactly what he means. for the first time, hannibal can see a life where things are semi normal: packing lunches for will take to work, and stuffing a handwritten note in there as a surprise; gathering around the fireplace with abigail on christmas morning, watching her open the presents that they spent hours wrapping the night before; always having someone to come home to after a long day, to just sink into bed beside, and hold, and dedicate the rest of his life to. 

for the first time in his life, he sees himself as domestic, and worthy- and for the first time, he also feels scared. what he feels for will graham isn't just curiosity or a yearning for friendship. he's in love with him. he's in love with will graham. 

he's close to tears when he pulls will in by the small of his back, kissing him hard. will settles into the kiss, which is less frenzied than the first one. it ends in them hugging, caressing each other as will runs his hand up and down hannibal's back to comfort him. he knows first hand what kind of emotional turmoil can be caused by being this vulnerable. 

"you are my achilles in more way than one", hannibal finally says, and will squeezes him tighter, heart fluttering. "the love i have for you borders on obsession. you were designed for me, and i was designed for you". 

and with those words having been spoken into existence, will feels the rest of world fall apart around them until it's just the two of them and nothing else. 

they don't get much time to revel in it, because the phone that sits atop of the desk rings, sudden and shrill. the men try to ignore it, but the ringing is unbearably obnoxious.  
"duty calls. loudly", will pulls back and smiles. he's glowing red, like hannibal's words have been fuelling his radiance, and the image is one hannibal knows he'll be saving for later when he moves to pick up the phone.  
"hello?", he speaks, then listens, and then speaks again - "jack, how may i help you?", then, "no, no, don't apologise, my workday is done. i'm just touching up some things around the office". 

it's a filthy double entendre that hannibal punctuates by sliding a hand onto will's thigh, brushing ever so slightly over his bulge. will let's out a strangled moan and then clasps his mouth shut, eyes wide. hannibal remains in inconspicuous. 

in the last few minutes alone, will has unlocked two new sides of hannibal that he's been yearning to see. the first one, vulnerable and honest, and the second one. whatever this is. the one that's sexual, and carnal. the one that teases will while on the phone to jack, saying "yes" and "no" and "i see" without really listening, because he's so focused on the desperate man that is glaring up at him. 

will shuts his eyes tight, rocking his hips up ever so slightly to try and get some friction, which hannibal doesn't notice, or at least pretends not to. he must black out for the rest of the short phonecall, because suddenly it's over and hannibal's lips are on his neck and he's being told something pretty in a language he doesn't understand.  
"what did - ah - what did jack want?".  
"just the regular work tête-à-tête, nothing to worry about", the older man looks him up and down. "assuming you want me to finish what i've started, i'm all yours now". his gaze falls quickly to the tightness in will's trousers.  
"and i'm yours"

with swiftness, hannibal lifts will up to sit on the desk properly, shuffling into the space that has been created between will's legs and licking his lips as he sees the borderline delicious way that the young man's thighs spread out across the mahogany. there's a fumble to shove will's jacket off, and then hannibal finds himself being gripped by his tie and pulled forwards. face to face, so close that they can feel each other's breath, will whispers something.  
"i'm giving in", his voice is shaking. "i'm letting myself have my own, selfish little emotions because i love you, hannibal. so please, please give in too, and we can... make each other feel good". 

hannibal feels his body jolt at the confession. it's something they've been dancing around for the whole night, and likely for the whole whole time they've known each other, too. the pair have their sizeable means of going about expressing these feelings, but they've never said it out loud, at least not face to face like this, until now.  
"you love me", hannibal's heart speeds up as will nods. these sensations are so foreign but strangely comforting. 

see, being borderline sociopathic since he was young means nobody ever expects him to feel 'human' things, bodelia once telling him that he's only a man on the outside. though it's obvious he'd protect abigail with everything he has, no one coins him as the type to feel lonely, or incomplete, or lustful, and it's exhausting to internalise that and try to act stoic when all he wants is to succumb to his primal human instinct - to be loudly, unapologetically, eternally in love. 

"i love you too", he finally brings himself to say, and instantly he feels more human than he has in years. will let's out a sigh of relief, a couple of tears falling down his cheeks. hannibal wipes them, and watches the man take a deep breath.  
"the theatrics of your love are special to me, han", he smiles, bringing out the nickname that has only been used between them a handful of times. "but i want those stupid, cheesy little words too".  
"i love you so much that i don't know what to do with myself, will", hannibal can't switch it off now that he's said it, the sentiment tumbling from his lips the second he opens his mouth. "i will admit that i don't know how to do this"  
"just... give in", will says again, wiping his own tear stained face. "switch off, lay me down, and have your way with me".  
"is that a suggestion, or a beg?", something in hannibal's stomach churns at the thought of seeing will graham, his will graham, legs spread and lips parted and eyes wide open. without even waiting for the man's inevitably smart answer, he's shoving the contents of his meticulously neat desktop onto the ground and pushing will up onto it, climbing to hover above him.  
"your things-", will gasps, and hannibal shakes his head.  
"merely inconsequential in comparison to making you feel as angelic as you look", the doctor starts to unbutton the mesh shirt that the other man has had the audacity to look so tempting in all night, head spinning with anticipation as he finally gets to swipe his tongue over will's nipple. 

he's wanted to conquer will like this since before he recognised that he cared for him, mind wandering during their meetings about how perfect it would be to map out will's entire lean body with his lips, and then make love to him, and rock him in his arms for hours afterwards. right now, however, is not the time. it's late outside, getting colder by the minute, and the the office - though a lovely fantasy to ponder - is not the coziest place for their first real time together. hannibal once thought he had no self control around the gorgeous empath, but he sees now that it's quite the opposite. he's in control completely, and it's driving him insane. 

"i'm not going to fuck you", hannibal moves a hand to confidently unzip will's pants, pushing them down his thighs. "no, this is not the right setting for me to fulfil my fantasies. but you are so handsome, and the faces you're making are so becoming", he slips his hand under the waistband of will's boxers, watching the boy's lips part, moaning as pleasure rips throughout his body. "a rushed encounter in this office simply wouldn't do you any justice".  
"then, until we find somewhere more practical, i'm yours however you want me". 

and then, at last, they both give in. 

hannibal leaves little red marks across will's entire chest and neck, not caring about how they're going to explain those away, all while will let's out strangled cries and bucks himself upwards into his hand. at one point, will is making noises that are so indecent and lewd that hannibal has to clasp his free hand over his lover's mouth. he's close. he can feel it from the way he's twitching underneath him. 

"open your eyes and look at me", hannibal growls, asking for submission. will eagerly does as he's told, squeezing at hannibal's wrist, asking the the older man to uncover his mouth, which he does.  
"please-", will isn't even speaking in full sentences anymore.  
"go on", hannibal nods, increasing speed. "let me see you". 

it's all about the eye contact. will looks like his soul leaves his body behind as he releases, fast and hot into hannibals hand. if hannibal could have it his way, he'd take will to bed right now, clean him off and comfort him, then tease and tease and tease for his own selfless indulgence until will was aching and ready for round two. will graham is impatient, though, and the circumstances don't eliminate that trait. he takes a couple of deep breaths, then sits up and slides off the desk, telling hannibal he'll be back in a minute. 

hannibal watches him disappear into the bathroom, and uses the tissue box they discarded onto the floor to wipe off his hands. his head is swimming and his chest is pounding, reminding him that he's alive. this is an adrenaline rush better than the thrill of killing, or the anticipation of outing himself to those around him. he's high from this. 

when will finally comes back after what feels like hours, shirt and pants buttoned back up as if nothing has happened, he finds hannibal standing by the large window, looking out onto the quiet baltimore roads - nothing but a few cars every couple of minutes, and the odd person walking home from work. 

will doesn't speak, he just places a kiss on hannibals shoulder blade. the mood has shifted to be something close to somber.  
"are you okay, will? do you regret this?", hannibal turns around and cups his face, hesitantly.  
"no", will chuckles. "this was just a little bit more intense than i anticipated. i'm happy, though. it was a long time coming".  
"indeed it was, but you could have avoided being overwhelmed if you'd have just let me look after you", hannibal dithers. "that's a fantasy of mine. to take care of you". 

a genuine smile appears on will's face, and he melts under hannibal's gaze.  
"do you often fantasise about me?".  
"more often than anything else", the man nods, and then his face drops. "though i try keep my fantasies sweet and lighthearted, for fear i might take it too far. it'd be easy to have self control when making love to you, but if i ever followed through on my plans tie you down, gag you or hold a knife to your throat as i pleasure you, i might...".  
"i trust you not to kill me", will laughs, and in any other context this statement punctuated by laughter would verge on insanity. "seriously, hannibal, i lose myself in the moment sometimes too. at first i'm imagining me bent me over my piano, overstimulated and crying, then suddenly i'm picturing what it would be like to see the life drain from your body, revenge for all the torture you put me through. i could never do that, though, because i like you much better alive".  
"i can't apologise enough for what i've done to you in the past".  
"i don't need an apology, i just want you to trust yourself around me", will distractedly plays with hannibal's tie, then pulls him in for a gentle peck on the lips. 

"you have a brilliant mind, i admire it, as much as it terrifies me", will brushes a hand up against hannibal's rough cheek, staring at him with a star struck expression. "to be loved by a man like you is an honour".  
"having any part in your life is an honour to me, my beautiful boy", he interjects.  
"so honour me. take me how you want me, and let me submit. whether you want to be gentle and nurturing, or completely deranged, there would be no greater way to love me than to establish such trust, at least not in my eyes". 

hannibal glances around the empty office, and back at his lover.  
"what do you want?", will asks him.  
"right now, will, i just want to take you home with me and shower you, and spend the remaining hours until your birthday making sure you're okay". 

they know in their hearts they're a perfect fit for each other. will can teach hannibal trust, and hannibal can teach will tenderness, things that perfectly balance each other out. there's all the time in the world to work on their budding sex life, though. right now, hannibal just wants will in his arms. 

"then let's go home", will nods, interlocking their hands. 

home. 

their home. 

hannibal smiles to himself. the feeling of finally winning is cathartic.


End file.
